EMF
by Noe Izumi
Summary: Sam and Dean investigate the possible relation between the spirit of a dead girl and some heart attacks in children. Also, Dean will be in trouble after the little ghost girl stablish a curious conection with his heart -in a literal sense.
1. Prologue

"Everything's going to be _super-okay._ "

Doctor James Foxter smiled tenderly to her daughter. She smiled back at him, a tooth missing, something usual in 7 year old kids like her.

"I know, daddy. I'm not scared", she said. "Know why? Because you promised"

The little girl gripped two fingers of his dad with her right hand, the IV already in place. Even if she had been seriously ill half of her short lifespan, Ellie never lost joy, neither hope. She was the one who gave him hope, not the other way around. She was the one who was going to be operated, but he was the one scared.

"Mom would be proud" he said, struggking to hold tears back; Ellie couldn't see him like that. He had promised her everything was going to be right. Super. "See you in a few hours, right?"

"Right"

He leaned over the operating table to put a kiss on her forehead, putting a golden lock back into the cap. Ellie barely smiled, dozy. The first aneasthesics dose was already kicking in. While a nurse helped him to put his gloves on, he heard the anaesthesist reciting the readings from the machines.

They were ready.

James Foxter took a deep breath in and lift the mask up to his face.

"James?"

Several hours later, somebody was knocking at his office. He couldn't recognize the voice. He didn't care. He didn't care anymore.

He still hasn't got rid of his scrubs and robes. His whole body shoke with his sobs, his face was a puddle of sweat and tears. He was the living image of despair itself.

"James, please! Open the door! It wasn't your fault, you knew it could end like that..."

He recalled he had left the operating room to collapse on his knees in the corridor, deserted at that time of night. The next thing he could remember was being sat down on his office's carpet, back leaning on his desk. It had to be a nightmare. Or at least, it seemed as irreal as one. But pain was real. It gnawed at his entrils, it didn't let him breathe.

"James, please!"

 _She didn't feel any pain, Dr. Foxter. She left peacefully_ , the nurse had said, the same one who helped him to put his gloves on, while the crew switched off the monitors and the deafening flatline tone stopped filling the operating room.

Gone.

She was gone. Now, he was alone. But the worst thing was that he failed her. He failed her only daughter.

The knocking at the door intensified. James Foxter raised the gun. It trembled in his hand when the end of the barrel dig into his scrubs, just over the heart. He felt it hammering madly against the cold steel, like if it were trying to run away from what was going to happen. Blood rushed and thumped in his ears, all over his body. _That's not fair_ , he said to himself, _the heart of my little girl won't beat anymore. and it's my fault. I couldn't save her._

The doctor raised his gaze to the ceiling, _to heaven_. Tears ran down his cheeks. He closed his eyes.

"I promised you, my dear" he sobbed. "I promised you... and I failed you"

He shot.


	2. The Candy Bar Boy

**The Candy Bar Boy**

 _A month later_

Sam Winchester let out a sigh.

That was going to take a long time; the queue at the bakery was long enough as to reach the door. His older brother waved joyfully a hand at him from the car, raising his thumb next. Sam fakely smiled back at him and turned his head so his brother couldn't see his exasperated gesture.

Dean has had the "wonderful" idea to ride hundreds of miles to taste the best cranberry pie of the state, but his 'little affair' with justice -they wouldn't never believe why he was innocent, because of course shapeshifters didn't exist to normal people- didn't allow him to leave the car. They had no better things to do, honestly. They haven't had a damn clue in days on the whereabouts of the evil being they were hunting and newspapers only reported news about murder, accidents or robbery; the boring, usual deaths. Nothing in which they could help.

It was on the newspapers where Dean found about that hella-good cranberry pie, "It's just three hundred miles away, Sam! We will be there at time for afternoon coffe" he said eagerly "They only make it once a year, to celebrate the day the bakery was founded- That sounds so good! Sammy, please!"

Sam knew those hedonistic moments hide something darker, something probably Dean didn't want to talk about- and he was in no mood to have an argument, either. After all, they had lost his father in strange circumstances, maybe killed by the very same evil being who burned their mother 23 years ago- and they were lucky to come out alive from their last encounter.

Some people said justice, others, revenge. But the only thing they had left was to chase and kill the demonic being who had killed their family. That was the only thought who made them get up from the cheap motels beds every morning, to take the long road across the country in a black and shiny Chevy Impala from 67. And that about saving people and hunting things, of course. The family business.

There were high chances Sam Winchester was the most patient person in the world -you sure did if you had his hell of a life or to cope with Dean sometimes-, but even him was starting to feel fed up. Two girls looked at him out the corner of their eyes, giggling like the schoolgirls they were. In front of Sam, a boy was begging for a candy bar. Even two, so he could save one for later, he told his mother. She was talking to an acquiatance of hers, ignoring how his son jerked her blouse. _"Yeah, every year I come to enjoy a slice of this pie- Yeah Aidan, honey, wait, Im talking to mrs Thompson- Oh, she did? Who could tell, she looked like such a well respected woman"_

Everything were smiles at the counter while customers were ready to bring home their delicious pie in a package. In the car, Dean was starting to get impatient. He was doing gestures to his brother like if he were asking him to cut queue "I'm not doing that!" Sam gesture, and Dean mocked at him.

The boy of the candy bar looked like he had forgotten about it. He was looking at something outside, in the street. His mother didn't see him go out. Neither Sam. He was arguing with his brother again in gestures.

Some minutes later, the candy bar boy's mother was picking up his slice of pie. Sam felt relieved when he realized it was his turn _-this is so ridiculous_ , he thought. He didn't bother wait in a queue, the problem was his brother. He got on his nerves sometimes- and it was especially annoying in front of the schoolgirls.

Then he heard the screams.

Everybody turned to the large window; the candy bar boy's mother realized his son wasn't there.

"Where s Aidan? Aidan?"

"Call an ambulance!"

Sam recognized that voice; it was Dean's. He run out the bakery -no pie this time, Dean- and came across a group of kids who screamed as they ran, scared. Sam saw people forming a circle in the middle of the small square, though the voices made impossible to discern what was happening. His brother's deep voice came over the other ones; he was in the middle of the circle.

"Get back, let him breathe! Come on, go away!"

Sam made his way onto where he was Dean trying to reanimate a small kid. The one who was in the bakery asking for a candy bar.

Dean looked distressed and worried. "Damn, no-no-" he heard him mutter while he got rid of his leather jacket. Sam thought the worse, and he nailed it. The horrified mother arrived some seconds later; he had to hold her so she could not go over Dean and his son while his brother tried the kid's heart would beat again.

Dean did compressions, panting, blowing into the kid's mouth, his forehead already covered in sweat. Sam could heard him cursing, words hard to discern between gasps and pants, and the desperate cries of the mother.

Ignoring the cramps he was starting to feel in his arms, Dean raised his head for a second, gasping for breath. In less than a heartbeat, he saw a girl among the forest of legs. She was 7 or 8 years old, and was wearing a violet dress. Hair, golden and dull, covered her shoulders.

Suddenly, the boy's body jerked in a coughing fit. Dean felt dizzyness striking him, half relief and half exhaustion. He had brought him back. He did it. It was too soon for you, Aidan, you still have to beg your mother for a weekly wage ; he thought. He lift him carefully to sit? And covered in his jacket; his tired gasps mixed with the kid's, who was trying to breath normally again.

Sam heard sirens and he felt anxious. They couldn't risk it, they had to leave that place before police saw them. He let the mother go, who went to her son, sobbing. Dean let her hug him and leaned forward, still trying to catch his breath.

"Aidan, God, you're okay-"

Dean took some seconds before he stood up, hands in his knees. He was going to have terrible cramps in his arms the next day.

The woman looked at him, all gratitude, some wet hair in her face. The kid still seemed to be confused, but he was breathing normally.

"Thank you. You saved my son."

Dean smiled to her. Sirens were drawing nearer. He only needed to meet Sam's eyes to know they had to leave, and quickly. He left the circle followed by his brother, ignoring a sudden dizzyness and swooying among people to reach the car. The mother was too focused in his son to realize Dean's jacket was still wrapping him.

"He will be okay, I suposse" Dean told his brother when they were in the car "We better go, I think we've already have draw enough attention -at least me!"

He got into the car on the passenger seat side and let himself fall there with a sigh. Sam looked at him from outisde, speechless; he had literally closed the door in his noise. Dean threw the car keys at him before he could say a thing about that sudden change of mind.

"Drive."

"You serious?"

"Yeah, I'm serious. I'm feeling weird and I prefer you drive before we crash and die, itn's that weird is it? Though you'll die anyway if you harm my Baby."

"Okay okay", Sam laughed, "But you know- driver picks the music, so-"

Dean was too exhausted to compline. He had reclined, eyes closed. Before getting keys into engine, Sam looked at him.

"Dean you- you saved that boy."

"Yeah. And I feel like I killed a vampire high in anabolics- and no pie."

Sam smiled.

"Some minutes later they have left sirens behind enough to feel safe. Dean saw her in the moment his brother hit the break at a traffic lights."

She was in a bench, near the car.

The girl in the violet dress.

She was not alone, there was an old man reading the newspaper beside her. Dean thought it could be her grandfather. She may had sneaked out when she heard the screams. The old man was too focused in his newspaper that Dean wondered if he had realized her daughter had left for some minutes.

The girl's eyes met his. She smiled. She had one tooth missing.

Dean's heart gave a jolt, so sudden his breath hitched. It was like if something had gave him a kick from inside his ribcage. He put a hand in his chest, startled. Traffic lights switched and the Impala's engine roaring hide his sudden coughing fit.

"Hey, Dean. It's weird, a little boy having a heart attack all of a sudden" Sam said, his eyes in the road "He must be ill- in that case I suposse his mother would have always keep an eye on him, but he left the bakery and she barely noticed it... Dean?"

Sam looked at his brother. He first thought he was tired, but he soon knew something was wrong. Very wrong. Dean was clutching at his chest, near the heart, and he looked like he couldn't breath.

"Dean! Dean, what's wrong?"

"Sam-" he panted "Help me, I- I can't-"

Sam hit the brake, making the car jerk. Dean could hear him shouting, calling his name, before darkness fell over him.

A skipped beat


	3. Missing a Beat

**Missing a Beat**

To Sam's huge relief, Dean was absolutely awake when he got to the Observation Room. That was a good thing.

He spotted his brother through the huge window glass, reclined in one of those big hospital beds. Wires were poking out above his crossed arms, reaching to the monitor which registered his vital signs. His gaze was lost somewhere at the end of the bed, like if he were deep in thought- or more like if he were a bored, pouting kid. That was a good thing, also.

Sam entered the room and got near him, walking slowly, hands in his pockets in a nervous manner. Even if he faced the stuff of nightmares day after day, he couldn't get used to see his brother in an hospital bed. It wasn't something he had under his control, and that scared him.

And it also made him feel useless.

"Hey" he said.

Grumpy, Dean didn't even look at him.

"Doctor said panic attack."

"Yeah, she told me so." Sam straddled a near chair. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I do now. Smooth as hell." Arms still crossed, he finally looked at his brother. "But that Doctor is wrong. She said it was because of the shock, because that boy was about to die in my arms- blah-blah-blah" he snorted "The shock, she said! Obviously she doesn't know a thing 'bout our line of work."

"Why are you so sure?"

"I can recognize a friggin' panic attack, Sammy. That wasn't one".

"You've suffered them before, then, if you can recognize one" Sam concluded, mocking at his brother's cocky manners.

"With the things we see... the weird thing would be not suffering them" Dean snorted again. "We've already had quite a few close calls this year, like... Fourteen? Fifteen?"

Sam shrugged.

"Lost count months ago"

Dean sat up, thoughtful again.

"Hey, Sam, you know when they say- your heart misses a beat?" he started saying "Well, it was something like that, but- like-" he puffed and shook his head and arms, finding it difficult to explain. "-like a thousand times worse. It just became totally crazy, it wasn't pounding hard, like in a panic attack. It was more like- a fluttering. A _shudder_. It'd would look like an earthquake there, I'm sure" he pointed at the heart monitor, amused.

"Wait, wait- you mean, like a ventricular fibrilation?"

Dean scowled at him, puzzled.

"A _what_ -?... Law student, you said, yeah..."

"We had a medical student in our group. A few beers and he would tell out loud a list of diseases and conditions, symptoms included."

"Now that's what I call to have fun studying."

"But... Dean, that's not really possible" Sam said, standing up from the chair. "You've always had a healthy heart, well, specially after that- _miracle_ cure" he pointed, recalling that case about a faith-healer and a reaper "And after you woke up from that coma, all tests results were great. You are healthy. Even with all the junk food you eat everyday" Dean rose an eyebrow, proud of himself. Sam ignored it. "I mean, why now? Why hadn't you had symptoms before?"

"Well, maybe that's because it's not the vont- ventro- that thing you said. But it wasn't a panic attack, either, I'm damn sure it wasn't" he rushed to add, raising a finger.

"Well, we've been under a lot of shitty stuff lately-"

"Saaaam..."

"Okay, okay-" Sam concluded, amused "Not a panic attack. I trust you. What, then? Any clues?"

Dean shrugged.

"The foggiest. That's why I'm here, I suposse. Now be a good brother and bring me that pie, this' going to take long I'm sure" he added nonchalantly, making himself comfortable.

"Dean, I think you should take this as a call to eat healthy from now on" Sam adviced, "Also, I don't think they allow you to have pie until they know what's wrong."

Dean looked at him, gravely offended.

"Well, hide it, then! I'm starving!"

Sam raised his hands and shook his head, like a mother who had ran of patience. He left the room.

It was at the end of the corridor when Sam saw her, out of the corner of his eye, through a door he left behind. The mother of the kid Dean had saved. The youngest of the Winchesters took some steps back until he came near that room The woman was sitting at a chair, near the bed in which his son seemed to be asleep, taking his hand. She raised her head to the door, aware of Sam's presence. Her eyes were slightly red, but anguish had faded away.

"Hey!" she said in a quiet voice, moving her head in a friendly manner "You are the boy who helped me in the square, aren't you?"

Sam smiled and approached to shake her hand.

"Yes, it's me. My name is Sam. That's a happy coincidence... I'm glad your son is fine."

She nodded.

"Lucy Summers. Yes, he is fine, thanks to that young man. He left so quickly he forgot this" he added, pointing at something hanging at other chair. It was Dean's jacket. "I wish I could give it back to him."

"Well- I can do that. He's my brother" Sam said. "He's under observation, that's why I'm here."

Her initial surprise faded after Sam finished talking.

"Oh, God, I'm sorry, is he fine? It was due to-?" she looked at her son.

"Oh, no no, it's okay. I'm sure he is fine. He just fainted, but they want to be sure."

"Oh, I'm glad to hear that. Your brother was really brave, Sam. If it wasn't for him, my son-"

"The important thing is that your son is fine" Sam reassured. But an idea refused to leave his head. First, the boy suffered a heart attack. Then, his brother collapsed due to a possible serious arryhtmia. That was too much to be a coincidence. "Ms Summers... Your son, did he had a heart condition? Do the doctors know what happened?"

She moved her head, silently.

"Doctors haven't found anything. They are doing more tests later, but- any of this makes sense to them. Aidan has never had heart problems. I suposse that's a good thing, if they haven't find anything, probably it won't happen again" she smiled, though nervously.

When Sam was back in Dean's room some minutes later, the doctor was with his brother. He was telling her what he had described to Sam earlier, and it seemed that she was finally convinced it wasn't a "frigging panic attack". Sam supossed the doctor was thinking the same he did: two heart alerts in less than half an hour, that was something usual at a hospital, but the fact they had dissapeared as quickly as they came, it wasn't that usual.

"We can't find anything abnormal, your heart seems to be perfectly healthy, but we would need more tests to try to detect the problem. I want you to spend this night under observation, and early tomorrow we will perform more tests. That sensation you described, it could be a serious arrhytmia, and I want to be sure. We will find it. Now try to have some rest."

She smiled at them while she left. Dean didn't change his fake smile until she left and he was sure she couldn't hear him:

"Where's the pie?"

"I found the boy you saved" Sam said, ignoring him; luckily enough, what he had to say could make his brother forget about food for a while. "This is yours"

He throw his jacket to him. Dean remained silent for a while, concerned.

"How's the boy?"

"Perfectly healthy" his brother said, back to straddle the chair "He's only sleeping. Doctors said it's like he hadn't suffered a heart attack. More or less the same they've said to you now."

"He isn't sick, then? Not a reason why his heart stopped?"

Nothing. They have to do more tests, but right now all diseases which could trigger a heart attack, negative."

"How do you came to know so much, did you introduced her as a doctor?"

Sam smiled.

"Nop, she remembered me from the square. I just told her I'm your brother. That woman is really grateful to you, Dean."

The older brother smiled, proud of himself.

"I'm a hero."

Next day, Dean extended his arms triumphatly, leaving the Cardiology Ward and walking to meet his brother.

"No arrhytmia, no anything" he said, taking his jacket from Sam "It seems they may appear, and dissapear again. Isolated incident, they said. But the fainting, it worries them. They say if it happens again they could put a thing on me- something portable, for a whole day, just to be sure"

"You mean a _Holter_?"

"Yeah, exactly, Dr. House... That would be really annoying, after a whole morning of- weird devices, and wires, here and there..." he stopped for an instant, looking at him dramatically affected "They made me run in a treadmill, Sam!"

Sam laughed while they headed to the elevator.

"I still feel there is something weird going on here" Dean added when they were inside the elevator "I bet this is related to what happened to that boy."

"Like if he were contagious?"

"Mm- Don't think so, not an attack in my case, my heart didn't stop. But the coincidence is there, it happened shortly after I saved that boy. Too much of a frigging coincidence, I would say. And look at us- we're perfect, the boy and I, nothing to be found."

"Do you think it may had happened also to other people in that square?"

"Like- a heart attacks outbreak?" Dean snorted "Weird" The elevator opened and the brothers stepped out "We'll have to investigate. I would start asking that boy before we leave. Maybe he saw, heard or- smelled something, before he collapsed".

Aidan was asleep when the Winchesters arrived. He couldn't remember Dean, but his mother told him who he was, and what he had done. The woman lavished in compliments to the older brother.

"You're making me blush" he joked.

"How are you feeling?" Ms Summers asked "Your brother told me you fainted"

"Yeah, but I'm fine" he said nonchalantly "Fit as a fiddle. Thanks for keeping safe my jacket, by the way."

She smiled, amused at his composure. _Things are going smooth_ Sam thought. _It won't be difficult to get some clues from her._

"Hey, Aidan- I'm just curious- do you remember what happened?" Dean asked at once, sitting in the bed with him "Anything".

Sam scowled at his brother. Both hoped the woman won't notice they were very interested; people usually felt awkward at unexpected questions like that. Fortunately, Ms Summers didn't seem bothered and Sam found it easy to soften his brother's lack of tact.

"Listen, Aidan, it's important you remember every details" Sam asked "That way, the doctors may find a lot easier to help you."

The boy remained silent, thoughtful. Then he didn't hesitate.

"There was a bunch of boys playing at the swings" he told them "Four boys and a girl- though the girl wasn't paying attention to them. They were playing something about war and ignored her, too"

"Woah, that's sexist" Dean remarked.

"I was so bored at the bakery that I rushed to join their game, but once I was there, only the girl smiled at me" Aidan went on "Then, I- I can't remember anymore. I just felt something pinching in my chest. It didn't hurt. I heard the boys screaming- and that's all."

His mother took his hand, holding tears back.

Dean and Sam gazed at each other. They realized that maybe there wasn't anything for them there. Just a sick kid. Anything supernatural.

Maybe, for once, it was just a coincidence.

 _My bollocks_ , Dean thought.

"Just one more thing, Aidan- before you fainted, did you feel a- a weird sensation in your chest? Like if your heart skipped a beat?"Dean asked, hand on his chest.

The boy moved his head.

"No, just pinching."

Dean sighed.

"Okay- Thanks, Aidan."

Suspicion finally faded from Dean Winchester's eyes, the only brother who, when they were already in the car, still had doubts about everything being a coincidence.


	4. Just her reflection

**Just her reflection**

Casey let out a gasp when the Hellish Surgeon buried the chainsaw in the flesh, reaching the bone, spraying his scrubs and his half-covered face with blood. His victim's screams were horrible. Casey turned to the next page, his eyes shining, eager; the hero didn't take long to appear and chop his head off, saving his girlfriend's life, though she would had to live with only one arm from now on. _That's soooo cool_ , Casey thought.

His mother didn't approve that kind of books, especially at bed time, but he wasn't afraid. Casey never had nightmares, because he knew those stories weren't real. Anyway, his mother wasn't there to tell him off. She had to work at night to pay bills and debts, even though he was at hospital with penumonia. But Casey wasn't afraid of being alone.

He seemed to sense something and raised his head, startled. His mother, maybe? She could have asked her boss to stay at night with him.

It wasn't her, but a doctor. Though not the doctor in charge of him since he was hospitalized. This one, he didn't know him.

Also, there was something odd about him. Something _really odd._

It wasn't only the fact he seemed to be "outplaced" with his surroundings, almost _faded_ , like in a homemade video. Mainly, it was the fact his clothes were stained in blood.

It stood out, eerily dark, over the typical green tone surgeons used. In the center, near the heart, the fabric was torn and burnt; it looked like a deep black hole. It was like if he had received a point-black shot in his chest.

Casey blinked, and the surgeon dissapeared. The boy let the book fall over his stomach, his eyes widely open. He looked half terrified and half fascinated, if both feeligns could be simultaneous. He didn't even scream.

The heart monitor alarm went off, franctic, an instant before it became flat. The nurses who ran to the blue code alarm didn't see the girl in a violet dress who was watching from the door.

"Hey, who are you, pretty boy?"

Dean smiled and winked an eye to his own reflection, pouring next some toothpaste into the brush.

It was a worldwide known truth that in a small town everybody knew each other, so he and Sam had agree on going out for a drink, visiting the pub -a place which was the main gossip source, along with queuing at the supermarket-. Also, if he could pick up some nice girl and get laid, the better. Two for one.

Sam hadn't take that long to get ready -Dean thought it was because he wasn't expecting to get "lucky" that night, what a nerd he was- and was consulting the laptop while waited for him. Dean could hear the muffled keyboard tapping from the bathroom.

"Are you done, pretty boy?" he heard Sam ask in a mocking voice. "Thinking about getting laid tonight? Let me remind you- we are working."

"Almost ready, you found something?" he mumbled, washing his teeth.

"I haven't found a darn thing. This took forever to pick up the Wi-Fi signal, I don't know what's wrong with this place. Anyway I hope we feel lucky in the pub... Not that kind of lucky, by the way, heartbreaker."

Dean shrugged and spit.

"I will always say it: Nothing like the information superhighway you find among the average, respetable citizens"

When he raised his head to pick up a towel, he saw her in the mirror, behind him.

The girl.

Dean turned around to face her, slowly, trying not to look startled. He barely heard his own voice.

"You are very young to spy in the boy's restroom, don't you think?"

The girl tilted his head, like wondering what he meant. Dean took a deep breath, slowly, feeling an odd and urgent tingling in his chest. His heart was beating normally, though; maybe a little too fast, even a little too hard, but normally. He hoped he would end it all before the girl started again with her dangerous little game; he didn't fancy to test himself on how many supernatural attacks could his heart tolerate before it exploded or something.

"Deeee-eeeeean..." Sam's voice sang impatiently from the hall.

The oldest Winchester didn't answer, neither asked for help. If Sam came he could be the victim this time, and he wasn't willing to put his brother in danger. Without moving his eyes from her, he spoke to the girl, softly.

"Hey, little one... We should talk. Smoothly. No tricks. Up to it?"

He took two steps forward. Three. His heart was pounding fast, making it difficult to breath. _It's not her weird magic, it's you. Stupid, you've done this a million times, just relax,_ he thought. His heartbeat blowing in his ears was an eerie background music, making clear how afraid he was. He touched the gun he had in his jacket, as to feel safe. Shooting a little girl wasn't exactly ethical, but it was only salt. Also, she was dead already.

Waiting for the ghost girl to say something, Dean couldn't help but realize there was something different in her eyes. He couldn't be sure, but he would swear it was sadness. She wasn't smiling, that's for sure. For a single moment, the hunter felt in his insides a sickening surge of sadness. He even felt a lump in his throat. What the hell was happening?

This time, the attack caught him totally off ward.

It felt like the air were taken out from his lungs with a blow in his chest. The lightbulbs in the sink buzzed and switched on and off, quickly, like if they were flashing. One of them exploded.

Dean managed to get enough air to call his brother's name.

"SAM-!"

The youngest of the Winchester had already realized something was really wrong when the laptop switched off on its own and the lamp light in the sidetable winked. His brother's scream made him ran to the bathroom.

Dean was bent over in the floor, coughing and panting like if an invisible hand were squeezing in his chest. Sam kneeled before him and cupped his head in his hands, forcing him to look at him. Dean took hold of his brother's arm, struggling to breathe. His forehead was damped in sweat.

"Hey, hey, Dean- Dean! Can you listen me?" Sam whispered to him.

He realized his brother's gaze was fixed somewhere over his shoulder, but when he turned his head, he didn't see anything- until he looked at the mirror. Because the way she was situated, Sam only could see her back in the mirror; she was standing before them, partially hiding Sam's own reflection with Dean in his arms. Her hair, straigth and lifeless, fell through her back. It was that girl in a violet dress that Dean had described.

Sam felt the pressure in his arm growing weak, and when he looked at Dean he realized his eyes were starting to get out of focus.

"Hey, hey, no no no- don't pass out! Dean, stay with me! Stay with me!"

Sam turned his head. The girl was still there, only visible to Sam in the mirror.

"Stop this! You're killing him!" he yelled at the void of the bathroom. "What do you want from him?"

Dean let out a muffled moan when Sam made him lay on the floor. He hardly could maintain his eyes open. Sam searched for his heartbeat under his clothes and a cold panic seized him: he didn't feel a proper heartbeat, only a quivering. Sam knew there was no pulse, and if he didn't do something quick, he was going to lose him.

"It's okay, Dean- it's okay-"

He started to perform reanimation, massagging his chest, trying to force his heart to leave for some seconds that erratic rhythm. _Come on, come on, just a little,_ he begged in silence; _just enough to continue pumping while I try to figure this out-._ Dean moaned feebly; his half-closed eyes didn't see him anymore. Sam continued with the massage, firmly and rhytmically, though he was terrified.

"It's okay" he panted "It's okay, bro, just hang in..."

The remaining lightbulb in the mirror burst out in a swarm of glass and sparkles. Sam felt the hair at the back on his neck staying on edge, a supernatural force coming from where the girl should be- if he could see her. He barely could hear his brother's struggles for breathing; panicking, Sam realized that if that girl remained there for one more minute, she will kill him. He pulled Dean's gun out of his pocket with a hand, the other still clutching at his brother's chest, afraid of what could happen if he retired it. He turned, his finger in the trigger...

But the girl's reflection had dissapeared from the mirror. Sam hesitated for an instant, puzzled. Suddenly, Dean jerked and took a shaky gulp of air, which ended in a coughing fit. Sam leaned over his brother, alarmed.

"Dean! Dean, are you okay?"

The older brother groaned in pain. He took some seconds before he talked.

"This can't be good for your health, kids-"

Sam breathed, relieved, and helped him to sit up, his back against the wall.

"You saw her- hey, Sammy-?" Dean asked, still woozy. Color was returning to his face, and when Sam grabbed his wrist he felt a steady, normal pulse. _Thanks God_ , he thought.

"Yeah, I saw her" Sam answered. "Well, only her reflection. Don't move, just rest a little."

He headed to the sink and picked up a fresh towel to damp his brother's sweaty face. After some seconds Dean protested and took it from him.

"Damn it, Sam-" he moaned, impatiently, pressing the towel against his forehead. "Why didn't you talk to her?"

Sam shook his head in disbelief.

"I prefered preventing you from dying, Dean."

With a long, deep sigh, Dean rested his head against the tiled wall.

It has been a long day.


	5. A living makeshift spirit detector

**A Living Makeshift Spirit Detector**

"Dean, look."

Feeling better, the older brother got up from the bed and headed to the table were Sam had been searching the Internet. The laptop displayed a newspaper page from more or less a month ago. Heading the article, there was a black and white portrait of a young man, smiling, in a lab coat and with a stethoscope around his neck. Dean couldn't help but realize that despite his broad smile his eyes looked sad, like if he were hiding something tragic.

"James Foxter, 38" Sam started. "He was a cardiologist in the local hospital. Foxter commited suicide about a month ago, he couldn't cope with the lose of his little daughter, Ellie. The girl suffered from- guess what."

"That freaky thing my heart does"

"Bingo. Ventricular fibrilation. Hers was very serious, her father couldn't save her. She died in the operating table."

Dean puffed like shaken by goosebumps. He took a beer from the fridge and got near Sam again.

"There's no picture of the girl, but I bet she is our little 'heartbreaker'" Sam dared "Every heart attacks took place this last month. It coincides with her death."

"Do they say how his father killed himself?"

"He locked himself up in his office and shot himself. In the chest. Straight to the heart."

Dean nodded gloomily, taking a sip of beer.

"Straight to the heart- in every sense. Well, this makes the doctor a very unlikely candidate to help us. Any living relatives we can ask what they did with the girl's body?"

"Foxter was a widower. His girl was the only thing he had left in life" Sam ended with a long, affected breath. Dean's voice sounded too dull.

"Fucking tragedy. I'm somehow glad nobody survived to bear this pain."

Sam winced, closing the laptop with a silent sigh. Dean's sigh on the other hand came out like a exhausted grunt as he sitted in his bed, beer in hand.

"I wonder how we going to find her without the EMF meters. You can't see her, we're not so sensitive to electromagnetism to simply feel her presence... well, except for my poor little heart" he said, finishing his beer.

Sam frowned.

"Hey- wait, that's- I think I have an idea."

The younger brother rushed to the duffle bag on his bed, fumbling inside until he found a large, thin case. He opened it as he approached his older brother and took out something which look like a watch and some sort of large strap.

"Lucky thing it wasn't in the duffle bag you got robbed" he said with a smile.

Dean arced an eyebrow in surprise.

"A heart rate monitor?" he asked "Like the ones ultra running freaks wear?"

"Yup"

Dean arced his other eyebrow.

"Since when you go running?"

"Early in the morning, when I know you'll wake up late because you've been watching who knows what on TV until the wee hours" he said "Exercise is great to relieve stress. You should try"

"You know what exercise I prefer to relieve stress"  
Sam ignored his obscene smirk.

"Pull up your T-shirt", he demanded.

Dean did as told, carried out by curiosity above anything. Sam fastened the chestband around his chest and put the watch-like device in his right hand, where he wasn't wearing his regular watch.

"Wait, what are you doing, why you put me this? I look like those idiots who wear two watches."

"Shut up" Sam said, half-smiling. "You know the heart works with electric impulses. Well, some scientists believe that due to that it posses its own electromagnetic energy, different in every person, and it forms some kind of field around us I know it sounds complex, but it has a good scientific base behind. It's said some persons are more sensitive than others to that energy. I'm sure you've heard about people who can't use electrical devices without them failing all the time, or that soft electric shock you feel when you touch somebody.

"You mean, like some kind of bitchy, bad-vibes aura?"

"You may say that. But a thousand times . It can have a ratio of 5 to 12 feet"

"So, our fields are mingling now? Aw, that's so tender, Sam."

"The thing is..." Sam continued, ignoring his brother's continous jokes "I think somehow that girl has found a way to her EMF to yours, more specifically, the one your heart creates. I know it sounds weird as hell, but that could explain why only you can see her, why you suffer a similar arrythmia and why I don't feel a damn thing. I'm not really sure, but- Well, it makes sense. I think."

Dean nodded.

"Sometimes your huge brain scares me"

"Well, it's only a theory... But we have no EMF meters, and we haven't time to find them, so this is our only solution right now" Sam concluded, finishing adjusting the chestband "What is pretty clear is that girl, whatever the reason, has a connection with your heart. When your heart rate becomes unsteady and the alarm goes off, we'll know she's around. Think about the hr meter like a- makeshift spirit detector."

"Well, your makeshift detector helluva stings" Dean protested, loosing the pressure in his chest.

"Hey wait, don't move. I have to set it up" Sam said, adjusting the band again near his heart and taking his right wrist to use the sensor, a franctic beep as he entered the data. "I create a new profile- max heart rate... well you aren't exactly fit so let's say this... Done." the sensor made a sound and a number appeared in the screen; 72. Dean stared at it. "I hope it works" Sam said. "Though I'm afraid we'll have to wait for our little girl to know it. Don't remove it, okay? This is very important, Dean. You're now our- _'living makeshift spirit detector_ '"

"Your _guinea pig_ , you mean" Dean remarked, grumpy, trying to loose the strap again. Sam slapped his hand ("Ouch!", Dean let out) and pulled down his t-shirt.

They arrived to the pub a couple of minutes later to find good ambience and good music, and a lot of people. That was the best thing in their line of job. They took two sits in the bar, where Sam was able to maintain a conversarion with one of the waiters. He told him they were two writers who were doing a travel guide on the sweetest, nicer towns in America. Mentioning the delicious pie they baked only once a year and remarking once and once again how delicious it was, made the waiter loose his tongue.

"This is a very nice little town" he told them, handing free beers -to Dean's bliss-. It never happens anything. Well, that incident with that kid in the square yesterday was probably the most exciting thing since that doctor shot himself in his hospital"

"Shot? Woah, how it happened?" Sam asked, pretending he didn't know in hope he could find out something that wasn't in papers.

"His daughter died while he operated on her" the waiter explained, gloomily. "Who could bear wuch pressure? The poor man. He used to come here very night, specially after his wife died. No alcohol. Only a tea. He used to sit in the place where-"

A voice interrumpted them. It was one of the waittress.

"Peter, can you come?"

A young woman required his presence from the other side of the bar, a phone in her hand. She was pale and looked anxious, like if she had received bad news"

"Excuse me, buddy, we'll continue later" the waiter told Sam.

While he waited, Sam realized that Dean has lost his gaze somewhere at the other side of the pub. He seemed to be out of breath. Suddenly the sensor alarm went off and Sam jerked, spilling his beer all along the bar.

"Dean! It's her?" he said in a strained whisper, taking his brother's arm and looking around "Where is she? Are you okay? We better go out, here we can't... Dean?"

Sam looked to where his brother was looking to find a stunning girl with her eyes fixed on his brother in a obscene manner. Dean arced an eyebrow and smiled at her; the girl looked away with a smirk. Sam groaned in disbelief.

" _Come on_ , Dean...!"

"The way she looked at me, Sammy...!" Dean puffed, removing his collar shirt in a pompous manner "She just turned me on like mad-"

"Dean, we said no chicks today." Sam said firmly, switching off the alarm in embarassment "We're not going to split up, and obviously I'm not going to be in the same room while you-"

Dean raised his hands as to defend himself.

"Hey, we agree on that".

"Anyway, how're you going explain to her why're you wearing a heart rate meter?"

"Who knows, maybe she's turned on by those things" Dean said, a silly smile in his lips "Or we can just- you know, a quickie, clothes on, straight to the-"

Sam raised his hands.

"Too much information! I don't wanna know, keep your Kamasutra to yourself"

His brother smirked. Sam frowned.

"Dean, we've got to stick together. If that girl appears and you ended like a ragdoll in the floor, you won't be able to fight back".

"Yeah, yeah. I know- Farewell, piercing gaze girl" he took a long sip from his beer, like a toast in honor of a deceased.

Suddenly, they heard a sob. At the other side of the bar, the waiter who Sam had asked about the town was hugging and patting the back of the waitress who had picked up the phone call.

"I know your son's going to be okay, just go to the hospital with him." they heard him say "I'll tell the boss"

They saw the girl flee away, her apron still on her waist.

"Heard what I heard?" Sam asked.

"You can say that"

Sam couldn't found out much more. A waitress absent, his "news provider" was too busy so they couldn't go on with the interview "for their book". He only could toom from him that the waitress' son had just had a heart attack… and he was only 8 years old. Bingo, Sam thought, through his mouth uttered "I'm really sorry". They didn't talk again about Foxter's suicide. Not that there were anymore to add to that.

When the brothers arrived to their motel room, it was past midnight. They decided they will take a couple of hours to sleep and will go to hospital early in the morning in their inspector suits, to find out something about the waitress' son. It wasn't a good idea to go already, even if they went "suited-up", because the mother would probably be too anguished to talk. They couldn't lose a potential witness so soon.

Exhausted, Dean collapsed into bed, still full clothed, but Sam didn't dare to go to sleep yet. If the girl appeared and he missed it, it could be too late to stop her from damaging his brother again. While they tried to know why she attacked her, the best he could do is protect him from her.

Sam started to feel cold. He wasn't sure anymore it was the time of the year or if maybe it was another thing. Unsettled, he look to Dean. He semeed to be sleeping; in the dim light, he noticed his eyes were closed and his chest was swaying up and down, slowly. Carefully, to not wake him up, Sam turned to him the hand where Dean was wearing the sensor. 59 bpm and steady. His brother was deep asleep. It'd been a long day for him, after all. _A robbery, two weird heart failures and being chased by a little psycho ghost girl must be exhausting_ , Sam thought as he covered his brother with a thin but warm wool blanket.

He came back to the armchair and tried to put an order to every thought in his head. Maybe Ellie, in the anxious, vengeful confusion death awakens, was trying to kill those kids with what had killed her? Then, why those kids didn't suffered from arrhytmia like his brother? If Dean was just in the wrong place at the wrong moment, why hadn't he suffered a heart attack, like the kids? It was their age? It was any other thing?

Suddenly Dean took a deep breath through his nose and tossed in bed, interrumpting Sam's thoughts. When he leaned over his brother, he saw his eyelids moving, and his heart rate had gone up to 89. There was no reason to be afraid: he could just be dreaming.

Or maybe _she_ was still there.

Instead of waking him up, the younger Winchester decided to take first a look around, his senses sharp in the dim light of the bed lamp. That girl only showed herself to Dean, but if he was lucky enough he could, at least, perceive where she was and scare her off. He thought about pouring salt on a ratio wide enough to protect his brother from her electromagnetic field, but he thought twice: if she was already there with them, he would trap her inside... with them. That's wasn't a good idea.

Sam decided to explore the room, at the same time keeping an eye on any possible variations in his brother's breathing. He took out a little hand mirror from his pocket; after all, he could only see the ghost girl through a looking-glass, and he had found one in his bedside table. The hunter went across the room, steadying his breathing to not lose track of his brother's checking everything through the small mirror. He entered the bathroom again, carefully, gun in one hand and flashlight in the other -they hadn't told the manager about the lightbulbs: the less he saw Dean's most-wanted face, the better-. But he found nothing. No cold spots, no goosebumps, no creepy little girl reflections in the mirror.

He got near his brother's bed again to find him still asleep, now snoring softly, his pulse down to 65. If it was a dream, it was peaceful again. If it was the girl, she wasn't there anymore.

Sam Winchester spent the rest of the night sitting at his brother's bed, salt-shots gun still in hand. Dawn light didn't take long to get its way through the half-closed window.


End file.
